The Family Business
by ariom
Summary: Avon is puzzled


THE FAMILY BUSINESS

_Unfortunately, I have no claims on Blake's 7 and the original characters therein._

Avon snarled and cursed under his breath. Nearby, Dayna raised her eyebrows in amazement.

"Why, Avon, what is the matter?"

"This &#&! puzzle! Vila gave it to me." He looked almost embarrassed. "For a birthday present, he said. He told me it would be a mental challenge - "

"And you can't resist a challenge," she finished gleefully. "But it can't be that hard, surely?" She came across to stand by him and look at the assortment of small cubes set out on the table. She frowned. "Why, there are only sixteen pieces. It can't be hard!"

Avon gave her a bleak stare.

"Look at them carefully, Dayna." He picked one up and they examined it critically. The centre of each face of each cube was plain, but as if flying off on each side was the half body of a witch on a broomstick. Each witch was dressed only slightly differently, and they did not all fly in the same direction. Avon dropped the cube back onto the table and arrayed several of them. "The idea, you see, is to arrange sixteen of these cubes in a four by four square, so each piece matches those around it. It's sort of a jigsaw puzzle." Dayna shrugged.

"Sounds simple enough."

"Not so simple as you might think. Do you have any idea just how many combinations - " He paused and corrected himself. " - how many incorrect combinations there are?" He gave her his particularly maniac smile. "Against one correct combination." And he snarled.

"Aaah." Dayna giggled. "Vila gave you this, did you say?"

"Yes." Avon gritted his teeth. Obviously his mind was intent on devising some suitable retaliation. "He said he picked it up at Belkov's place. Said it reminded him of Servalan and thought I might like it. Said it reminded him of home, too. I don't know why."

"Oh. And is it really your birthday?" She smiled at his ungracious expression. "Oh, it is. How old are you?" He grunted unintelligibly and she persisted. "Go on, tell me."

"Forty two," he muttered unwillingly and she chortled. (Vila had brought her a gift from Belkov's collection, too, four, sorry, five books which he had insisted were a trilogy and through which she had giggled her way.)

"That figures." And she beat a hasty retreat before he could demand (and possibly forcibly extract) an explanation for her amusement. Avon scowled after her and returned his attention to the puzzle. By now it was a matter of honour. How dare sixteen small plastic cubes, crudely illustrated, baffle a mind such as his?

If he put this one here, and this one next to it, here...and...damn it, there wasn't another one to correspond to any of them! He shuffled them up and started again.

This one here, and this one beside it, and this one below the first piece and...dammit!

Maybe this way...uhuh!

(And you were all wondering just why Avon finally went off the deep end? Maybe he even had a real reason for heaving Vila out of an open airlock. Revenge is as good a motive as anything else for attempted homicide.)

Back to the drawing board, er, puzzle board.

Tension mounted in Xenon base. Avon at the best of times could make a grumpy grizzly bear appear jovial and benign by comparison, but Avon frustrated by a mere child's puzzle was a fearsome sight.

Finally the others, living almost in fear of their lives, gathered together and prevailed upon Vila to alleviate Avon's frustrations and demonstrate the solution to the puzzle. Vila was reluctant; he had been enjoying the rare and unusual sight of Avon boggled by any problem. But their combined threats, er, persuasive powers finally convinced him and he approached the table, where Avon still muttered, arranged and rearranged the puzzle pieces, and gave the general impression of insane bafflement.

"Ah...want a little help?"

"Little is the right word if you are offering it."

Vila grimaced. Clearly, Avon's ability to find a sarcastic phrase was undiminished by his efforts elsewhere.

"Well, if you're going to be like that..." He started towards the door but upon seeing the other three gathered there he changed his mind and returned. "Do you want me to help you?"

"Can you?"

Vila's grin was cheeky.

"I ought to be able to." Avon looked at him sharply but he did not elaborate, merely started manipulating the pieces, chattering all the while. Avon watched as if fascinated.

"Y'know, Avon, you and the others, you never really asked me what I used to do on Earth, before - "

"You were a thief."

"Yeah. But, well, sometimes stealing all the time gets to be a bit boring - "

"Gets to be a bit dangerous, you mean."

"That, too. But even a good thief - and I was - still am - a good thief - needs some other form of occupation." He rubbed thumb and fingers together in an old gesture. "Stealing's all very well, but it's not the safest way of making money. So, I worked for a company based in the outer city. We designed, made and marketed all kinds of minor home entertainments. Board games, card games, quizzes, even computer software, you know the sort of thing. This - " and he put the last piece neatly in place, producing the finished puzzle that had eluded his Alpha companion for so long, "was one of a new line. I'm delighted to realise it was such a success."

Avon regarded him with suspicion and dawning comprehension.

"You are delighted?"

"Yeah." Vila chuckled and started for the door. "Seems that even a fourth grade ignorant can baffle an Alpha some of the time. You see, I designed this particular puzzle." There was sheer delighted malice in his voice. "It was intended to be the first - and the most simple - of a new line. But then I got caught and sent off to Cygnus Alpha - "

"Vila - " Avon took a step forwards. " - are you trying to tell me that you are responsible for this piece of mind boggling and perverted (&# - #?"

"That's what I just said, didn't I?" He chuckled. "That was our family business, you see, making up that sort of thing. We called ourselves Restaless Minds Associated. We were very successful."

And grinning at them all, he left the room.

_(with grateful acknowledgements to Shafir Games)_


End file.
